Your Facebook life is great,
your Instaworld real neat.
You fly high through the Twitterverse,
on the tail of every Tweet.

Your online life is beer and skittles,
where sunny days blend into laughter.
Friends embrace while flowers blossom,
and mankind’s happy ever after.

But the life that you project,
is like a hollow tree.
Glorious splendour on the outer,
the emptiness we dare not see.

Once in a while we get a glimpse
of the real you and your transgression.
Of sadness at your world
and need for repossession,
of your life the way it was
before the pressure got a hold.
When nobody knew who you were,
not yet a product being sold.

When being not perfect was quite okay,and you stumbled and you tripped.When mistakes were made and learnt from,and you read not from a script.

But don’t worry, you have got us good
we buy it, while we know it’s suss.
We love that mirror you hold up,
so what does that make us?

Life’s a gift, all ours to take,without anything in return.Let’s strip back all our layers,so we can see our fires burn.

We don’t need others to fan our flames,they’re ablaze, alive, aglow.It’s our own passion that fuels the fire,not the Likes that we crave so.